


Domestic Disputes

by Ukthxbye



Series: drabbles and prompts [21]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Fandom Trumps Hate, Greg is Sweet, Kissing, M/M, Married Life, Mycroft Holmes Has Feelings, Mycroft is a Softie, One Shot, POV Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26779135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ukthxbye/pseuds/Ukthxbye
Summary: Mycroft needed one thing fixed and Greg insists he is the one to do it.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Series: drabbles and prompts [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1164341
Comments: 6
Kudos: 61
Collections: Fandom Trumps Hate 2020





	Domestic Disputes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lyricalsoul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyricalsoul/gifts).



_ Drip. Plop. _

Mycroft shifted his seat at his desk, and his eyes landed back on the paragraph he struggled to read.

_ Plop. Plop plop drip. _

He sighed and stretched his neck muscles.  _ I can ignore it. Work. Must focus. _

_ Drip drip drip. _

"Bloody hell" Mycroft said under his breath, eyes shutting tight.

He pushed his chair back with a whoosh and stood. 

"Gregory, can you please come here?" he yelled down the hall as he crossed it into the lavatory. 

The offending noise is worse than last week. A leaking sink his husband promised to fix, and yet… it remained in all its offensive dribble.

_ "I worked a whole summer with my uncle, the plumber you know," Greg said with a grin Mycroft never resisted. "I'll get to it." _

Yet another week went by. Greg put a bowl to catch the drip a few days before. Mycroft opened the cabinet, glancing at the bowl, running a finger along the pipeline. 

When he stood, he found himself embraced from behind. 

"What you need, love?" Greg said, his lips planted into Mycroft's spine. 

"For you to keep your promise," Mycroft said, staring at Greg through the mirror.

"I got it… like I said, love."

Greg squeezed harder around Mycorft's stomach, fingers rubbing along his rib cage.

"The sound is doubly offending now. I need to work, Gregory. I leave for Belarus tomorrow for two days." Mycroft closed his eyes to soak in the closeness he'll miss. And to avoid whatever spell Gregory put over him with his smile. 

"And when you get home, it'll be fixed."

Mycroft tried to shift away, but Greg kept a tight hold. "Gregory, my parents… and my brother are coming to dinner Friday so I need you—"

Greg turned Mycroft around in his arms, pushing their hips together tight. "Need me? But I thought you needed to work?"

Those lips curled up devilish and he knew he was beat. Mycroft attempted his best face for censure despite that. " I need this taken care of... please?"

Greg sighed, leaning with his lip mere centimeteres away from Mycroft's, breath caressing, breaking down every resolve. "I promise my love. Now, how about a kiss to seal the contract."

How could he do anything but oblige? Mycroft didn't notice the drip for at least an hour after. The bedroom was too far away.

-:-

He slipped in a quick call to Gregory the next day between meetings, standing on the consulates back balcony. 

"Hey love… how's everything going?"

"Swimmingly."

"Saving the world as you always do."

"Gregory… small—"

"Just a minor role in the government gotcha mm-hmm."

"Hows sink repair going?"

Mycroft waited in silence.

"Its… well?"

"You haven't started. Gregory please that is the guest lavatory call someone—"

"I got it ok? Just got busy at work, but the case load cleared today with some arrests. Tomorrow I'm off. It'll be perfect when you get home. Promise."

Mycroft only offered a deep sigh from his nose.

"Do I ever fail you?" Greg pleaded. 

"Yes." 

He regretted it a moment after in the silence that hung between them. 

But Greg only audibly sighed. "Ok… dumb question to ask you I guess… after all, you're too practical."

One bite for the other. "And you're too romantic."

A breathless silence between them both.

Greg let a low laugh slip out. "You love it though."

Mycroft folded his arms and gestured. "Apparently not as practical as you insist then. I'm letting you fix the sink."

"Then perhaps neither of us are too much of anything, really?"

Mycroft let the corner of his lips lift and he could hear in Greg's tone he mirrored. 

The rest of their words were easy and light, striking a note of want, and the tug under his ribs reminded him he wanted nothing more than to be home. 

-:-

The sun hid behind a cloud as Mycroft stepped off the plane. 

"You sent the documents?" he sighed to Anthea, adjusting his favorite dark gray suit jacket. 

"Of course," she said as she handed him his mobile. He'd requested she take it so he would rest. The nap needed before dinner.

His parents tough work enough, a practice in patient understated persuasion to easy topics. Gregory delighted them to easy distraction, and Mycroft only needed to smile and laugh when required. A relief in every sense. 

But with Sherlock? Gregory and Sherlock trailed off into case studies, arguing over whatever crimes documentary they'd both watched recently. Did he end it most of the time by providing the logical answer? Well, yes. But it was exhausting nonetheless. 

He also suspected his parents would discuss adoption once again. How he became the subject of their grandchild obsession was beyond him when his brother was _ right there _ . He and Gregory both too old. And yet he hadn't shut down conversation about an older child, independent and in need of stability. Not that he would tell his parents that. 

No matter, he would endure it all knowing a quiet night and weekend lay ahead of him. 

_ Gregory must be prepping for dinner _ , Mycroft thought as he entered the house, noting Greg hadn't answered a text from three hours ago.

A quiet hush in the house, neither sound of Gregory in the kitchen or anywhere. He strained his ears.

"Gregory?"

No response. Nothing yet indicated alarm required but his instincts alert nonetheless.

He stepped into the kitchen, barren of any food. Neat as a pin as he left it. But this wasn't reassuring in the least.

"Gregory, where are you?!"

As he stepped to the hall a running water sound pierced through as he sprinted to the door of the cursed lavatory. 

The half-closed door slammed open to find a mess of a husband, jeans and shirt wet. Water pooling on the gray tile around soaked towels and the tight backside of the sought party visibly sticking out the sink cabinet.

"Gregory!"

Greg screamed and cursed as his head banged into the wood with a dull thud. 

The look of fear thrown at him struck Mycroft. His past self creeping at the end edge of his mind found it all unforgivable. One more failure to yell at or worse… a steely, quiet dismissal.

But something broke in his mind with Greg's stare. Hiding a deep fear, Mycorft spied it in Greg's lips tight against his teeth in an uneasy grin. Mycroft only wanted to assuage it. 

Mycroft stepped over a soaked towel without a word and leaned down, planting a soft kiss that Greg met with fervent relief. 

"Hey darling, you're home early." Greg gulped. 

Mycroft smirked, pulling a deep resigned sigh through his nose. "It is 6 pm. " 

"Is it?" Greg chuckled. "Nearly done… as you can tell."

"So what happened?" Mycroft asked as he squatted down looking at the slow trickle coming out one of the fittings.

"Thought I had it sealed well… Apparently I didn't get something right," Greg grunted, leaning beside his husband. 

" Where's dinner?"

Mycroft and Greg yelped, hitting their heads on the counter.

"You bastard" Greg yelled, leaning back to stare at a smug Sherlock Holmes leaning in the door frame. 

"What… me?" Sherlock feigned shock, placing his hand on his chest. "I showed myself in because  _ someone _ isn't answering his texts."

Mycroft grimaced, "Sherlock, our lavatory's covered in water as you can clearly observe."

Greg shook his head, "Dammit Sherlock, are you gonna help or—"

"I'm here for din-ner, that's it. And that is just because Mum insisted." Sherlock threw his head back.

Mycroft glanced at Greg hoping there was a plan and the smile that met his stare all the assurance he needed.

Greg, wiping his hands on his trousers, stood up and checked his mobile on the counter. "I ordered it and…" he scrolled and then met Sherlock's stare. "By the app should be here any minute, so just leave us if you're gonna stare — "

"Perfect! I'll wait at the door while you two have a domestic." Without another word, Sherlock spun on his heel and trotted down the hall. 

Greg squatted back down. "Your brother is useless."

"As is this spanner. " Mycroft huffed out a hard breath as he struggled against the fitting, trying to get that last drip gone. 

They stared at the trickle. Both their arms tired from the struggle to tighten it. 

"Maybe together?" Greg murmured, leaning into Mycroft's shoulder. 

Their eyes met and Mycroft nodded as he put the spanner in place once more. Greg put a hand on it and they both pushed, getting just enough leverage to stop the leak to nothing.

With a sigh and a chuckle they both fell back against the wall, ignoring the water on the floor. 

Mycorft laid his head against Greg's as they both caught their breath. He'd need to send this suit to the cleaners tomorrow. 

"You know it's a good thing I love you."

Greg sighed. "Mutual, darling. Now let's get changed... "

Mycroft stood first, offering his hand to his husband and pulling him up into an embrace, rubbing small circles at the base of his spine. 

"You know Sherlock could handle the parents for a while… unless you're hungry."

"Lets go get out of these clothes and find out… unless I'm still in trouble?" Greg licked his lips.

Mycroft sighed, slipping his hand up to run his fingers through Greg's hair. "Perpetually."

"You like it though," Greg whispered, staring at Mycroft's lips. Before he could answer Greg stopped, the words with a kiss more urgent than before.

"Missed you."

"Prove it," Greg grinned as he slipped out the embrace and back away out the room. 

Mycroft stepped and reality squished under his foot. He panicked, torn between a rekindled reunion tryst with his husband and the utter mess before him. The mess won as he knelled down gathering dripping towels tossing in the near hamper. He checked to see if Greg returned and hurriedly searched the cupboard for a large towel to get the rest of the water up. On his knees on the floor, he sopped and soaked up the water, testing the tiles to make sure grout remained stable. 

Greg appeared at the door. "As I expected." 

Mycroft sighed and smiled, relieved Greg's face looked down in a sheepish smirk. "Need help, love?"

"You did make this mess."

"And you married it."

Mycroft shifted up still on his knees as Greg stepped forward. Both men jumped at the third voice that filled the room.

"I know its your house, but please close the door before you do such...things—"

"God you're an ass," Greg groaned as he turned.

Mycroft stood, standing behind Greg as he rubbed his face at a bemused Sherlock covering his eyes with a hand.

"Everyone decent?" Sherlock lifted a finger to spy through his fingers and dropped his hand. "Good. Dinner is here."

Sherlock gone again. Greg and Mycroft sighed, taking each other's hand, but groaned when he appeared once more. 

"Also Mummy and Daddy are here… you both owe me if you leave me there by myself more than ten minutes starting the clock" Sherlock brought his watch up, "Now." And he turned and did not return. The voices of their parents drifted into the hall. 

"Always the adventure," Greg said as he leaned down, picking up the towel and tugging Mycroft by the hand from the room.

They walked to their room in silence, still holding hands. 

Greg murmured, "Any regrets?   
  


"That I let my brother live despite his best efforts not to?"   
  


"Really?" Greg said as he pulled Mycroft into their room and released his hand. 

  
Mycroft sighed. He shook his head and snickered as he loosened his tie, "No and shut up and get those clothes off."

"Yes sir… should we keep them waiting a few minutes?" Greg raised his eyebrow gesturing toward the hall as he pulled his shirt over his head.

"Absolutely" Mycroft answered with a wide grin. 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This is for Fandom Trumps Hate. Thanks to Lyrical Soul for wanting something domestic.
> 
> thanks to Mouse9 for edits and title suggestion.


End file.
